


Applied Romantic Theory, With Abed Nadir

by ravenryder



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Annie-Centric, Canon Compliant, Community: writerverse, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mafia episode, Paintball, Pining, Post-Troy departure, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 06, Unwittingly pining abed, abed and annie without troy, community found family, paintball episode, pining abed, soft abed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenryder/pseuds/ravenryder
Summary: Abed cocked his head to the side as he studied the board mounted on the wall of his new bedroom that was finally starting to feel old. The board covered end-to-end with all the knowledge he had acquired as their friend, from the Mafia episode when Abed had tried to stay ahead of justice and the return of confusing social dynamics. The board that detailed intimate knowledge, particularized lists, and physical evidence for every member of his operation friend group. The detailing of which featured the most thorough picture of her character that he could muster; a picture he stared at, scrutinously, for what felt like hours.His eyes lingered on her picture for a minute longer, before turning to another spot on the board, just a few inches below.To the one word, the key to all of this. The key to cracking the barrier between him and human connection. (With Annie, at least.)Under her list of likes, the word waited:ROMANCE
Relationships: Abed Nadir & the Study Group, Annie Edison & Abed Nadir, Annie Edison & Jeff Winger, Annie Edison/Abed Nadir, Troy Barnes & Abed Nadir, Troy Barnes & Annie Edison & Abed Nadir
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	1. Make an Observation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andrea Izurieta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Andrea+Izurieta).



Abed had always liked Annie. Always. From the first moment he met her, standing outside of Spanish 101, looking between her schedule and a map of the school furiously in the hopes of memorizing everything she would ever need to know before lunch, he had liked her.

Abed hadn’t invited her to the study group that first day because she didn’t seem like the sort of person who would like him though. The people who _did_ like him were few and far between, but had a common thread of patience, impulsivity, and a childish nature. None of which described Annie Edison.

Annie Edison was single-minded, methodical, and rigid as the visionless, formulaic writing of _That 70s Show’s_ mismanaged final season. She was also caring, selfless, and willing to do absolutely anything for the people she loved. Daring, fun-loving, honest, earnest, adventurous, passionate, and a million other things Abed had tried before to carefully detail, but eventually gave up after an especially poignant “therapy” session with Britta had inadvertently made him realize might be a disturbing outlook for his affection for Annie. (Not to mention Annie had her own sense of humor that Abed could both understand and often appreciated).

In a world where friendships are Nicolas Cage movies, Annie’s is a _National Treasure_ (2004). It didn’t take long for Abed to figure out a girl like her deserved better than the kind of friendship he could give, and figured she wouldn’t want his anyway.

But then the psych experiment incident happened, and Abed realized Annie did want to be his friend.

Sure, what Annie did was horrible and he was really upset that she had made him miss his movie. But she apologized, corrected her mistake, and after that, made such a clear, decisive effort to be more considerate and thoughtful toward him while developing their friendship that even Abed picked up on it. (And when he didn’t, Annie had no problems explaining her intentions when questioned. Most people got defensive or weirded out, so that was nice).

He was glad to be her friend. He had always wanted to be Annie’s friend. He liked Annie. He loved Annie.

And in a time when everyone was either dying, leaving, or spinning off, Abed knew he would do whatever it took to _keep_ loving Annie. Even if that meant loving her in a way he never could have anticipated.

  
  


_Abed listened to the clock tick, and tried not to lose his mind._ Tick, tick, tick _. He listened to the clock_ tick. _He listened to the clock_ tick, tick, tick _and he tried not to lose his mind. He_ tick _he was_ tick _he was just_ tick _trying not_ tick _to lose_ tick _._

_His mind, his head, his focus; if he let himself get lost in the tick tick tick he would never get out of the dark dark dark._

_Troy was gone._

_Troy was gone, traveling the world with legendary TV actor LeVar Burton to earn his inheritance. Troy was off doing that awesome and transparent premise for a quality spin-off that’ll end up canceled too soon and wrapped up with a long-awaited made-for-TV movie -- and Abed was too sad to point that out. All Abed could do was listen to the tick, tick, ticking of the clock above the TV in the apartment they once shared, and wonder what was next for him. With Troy gone and Abed’s progress essentially halted and gone with him, what would come next in Abed’s never-ending search for human connection and emotional growth?_

_“I’m worried about you, Abed.”_

_Abed looked over the cushioned seat in the living room they had all long regarded as his, turning his steady gaze from the clock to Annie with no small amount of melancholy at not being able to marvel with Troy at the overtly tropey timing of the transition from internal monologue to climactic reveal-to-revelation of the character being alluded to. “You don’t need to be. I’m gonna be fine. I’m Abed 2.0.”_

_“Abed…”_

Tick. _“I’m Abed 2.0.”_

_Annie’s eyes were huge and blue, and her eyelashes were fluttering in the delicate, stuttering way that they do when she gets emotional. “Abed, what does that even mean?”_

_Abed wasn’t sure yet, but he didn’t want to let her know that. Instead, Abed held out a hand for her, choosing to show Annie what little he had figured out so far._

_Annie took his hand, guiltily but happily accepting the offer extended as she intertwined their fingers and sat on the arm of his chair beside him. “It means I’m going to be fine,” Abed said. “Fine, fine, fine.”_

Tick, tick, tick.

  
  


Abed cocked his head to the side as he studied the board mounted on the wall of his new bedroom that was finally starting to feel old. The board covered end-to-end with all the knowledge he had acquired as their friend, from the Mafia episode when Abed had tried to stay ahead of justice and the return of confusing social dynamics. The board that detailed intimate knowledge, particularized lists, and physical evidence for every member of his operation friend group. The detailing of which featured the most thorough picture of her character that he could muster; a picture he stared at, _scrutinously,_ for what felt like hours.

His eyes lingered on her picture for a minute longer, before turning to another spot on the board, just a few inches below.

To the one word, the key to all of this. The key to cracking the barrier between him and human connection. (With Annie, at least.)

Under her list of likes, the word waited:

  * _Romance_



It was a compelling theory. The idea that romance - though unpredictable and accompanied by many challenges and risks - presented the highest opportunity for success in any approach to connection with their dear little Annie Edison. Case in point: Jeff, Troy, himself. When she liked Troy, they spent every day together. Once she fell for Jeff, the two of them were never paired with anyone else in the group more.

Even Abed’s own minor, contained romantic storylines with Annie had produced bursts of intimacy - just look at how long it took her to move in with them once the two had shared a kiss in their epic, Season 2 finale paintball episode.

And it always worked out, because Annie never really went for anything. Academically, Annie took everything she wanted, but romantically, Annie didn’t often go for it. She pined silently after Troy, she and Jeff have been doing their dance for years, even her Facebook boyfriend Brent Underjaw - who was just Abed fulfilling some really strange impulses he’d been having a hard time understanding lately - had never been made to commit or even buy a phone with a working camera.

Yes. Yes, that was the key to all this.

If he was ever going to get close to Annie, Abed was going to have to make her fall in love with him first. 

Abed had tried it before, had pursued human connection with Annie through deceitfully romantic means. Not only when he catfished her, but in the paintball episode, when he adopted a Hans Solo personality with the complete understanding that Annie would be attracted to the character’s roguish arrogance, swagger, and charm (and if he was being perfectly honest, crafted with Jeff in mind a little bit) and that sans-Jeff, White!Abed caper when Troy slyly set Abed up to flex his flirting Don Draper skills on her.

But all those times were different. Those times, he had never tried to convince her of anything as Abed. He had never tried to make her believe him, believe he was saying anything as himself, and thus the feelings had never lasted. He had to make her believe he was worth her time as _himself._

Abed would make Annie believe he was worth her love.

Even if he could never believe it himself.


	2. Propose a Hypothesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still for Andrea!

“Careful, Annie. Standing all alone out here, looking like that... someone might think you were in need of a sharp-witted and rakishly good-looking love interest. Or at least hope you were.”

Annie squealed internally as she twirled to face her very familiar admirer, utterly unable to help her own earnest excitement and schoolgirl blushing whenever Abed pulled his _“Suave Abed”_ moves. It was a recent development, but one that Annie was finding to be both adorable and very relatable.

“Abed!” Annie said upon turning around, clutching her books to her chest a little tighter as she beamed up at him from her spot looking out on the quad. “There you are! I've been waiting for you.”

“Oh, is it my birthday too?”

Annie rolled her eyes, giggling as she swatted his arm and then snatched it up a second later as they began walking together. “I have a favor to ask--”

“Done.”

“Abed!” She tugged at the arm she was clinging to, gesturing and behaving in the cozy, familiar way she had grown used to acting with him. The way she _had_ to act with him, just to keep from going crazy or acting on the _full_ extent of her feelings. “It takes some explaining though, and I don't want to take up your time if you're busy. Do you have enough time to talk?”

“With you? There's not enough time in the world,” he said, smiling softly at her and her adorable uncertainty. “But probably enough for a long-winded explanation. Shoot.”

Annie paused, her heart pounding a bit faster as she stared at the open expression on his face. Abed had answered with ease -- too much ease, in fact. He forgot to inject that line with the necessary amount of cockiness and performance to fit his _cool & arrogant _persona, and some of the sincerity and passionate truth behind the sentiment had bled through.

Abed didn't notice his mistake, but Annie did. The adoration and honesty in his voice tied her stomach in knots and made her heart pang, but she didn't comment on it. She never needed to.

Annie knew who Abed was. Amid all the impersonations and homages and personas, she could always see the real Abed inside of it all -- probably because it's when she was with him that she was the realest Annie.

“Well-- the thing is-- it's kind of for a psych experiment and--”

“We don't have the best track record with psych experiments?”

“Oh, _I_ don't. You… Yours might be the best I've ever seen. I'm not joking. Who else can say they actually _beat_ a psych experiment? I don't know if anyone's ever told you this, but it is _not_ a competition.”

Annie always knew who she was with Abed, which was nice. It's not like the same could be said about _Jeff._

With Jeff, she was constantly floating in a sea of ambiguity. Their eternally frantic dance between romantic and friendly and parental dynamics and tension was, frankly, exhausting. All that uncertainty just internalized into uncertainty about herself, about who she was and who she wanted to be, so she spent all her time trying to pretend to be someone else.

With Abed, there was no confusion. She could be herself, youthful and lighthearted and fun. When it was the two of them, nobody judged or belittled her for her age. She suddenly didn't feel that tightness under her skin for once that whispered that nobody took her seriously, that they were all laughing at her, that no one could see her.

She had gotten more confident over the years but that feeling... it had been there most of her life. Annie was pretty young when she learned to corral it, turn it into drive, and only ONCE did it overwhelm her. Only ONCE did it send her sprinting through a glass door.

But over the last few months... the last few years really... Abed had made the feeling go away. Living with him, studying with him, playing with him; once Annie's life was filled with Abed, the boy became like a safety blanket for all her anxieties and troubles.

(Troy was too, but she didn't want to think too much about that gaping hole of emotional security in her life).

So, if Abed wanted to put on a show of slowly developed charm, convincingly realized arrogance, most likely to be stretched out over a period of weeks, Annie would play along. Maybe she shouldn't have, but she found his efforts sweet and couldn't bring herself to stop it.

It wasn't that she didn't know who Abed was. She did, and she knew who he was to her. No amount of posturing or personality assuming could change that.

The smile on Annie's face was tiny and embarrassed, but genuine, as she slipped her hand from around his bicep to his own hands, intertwining their fingers easily. “Well, I never would have asked you to participate in a psych experiment again, for obvious reasons, but my interactive study _needs_ volunteers and I can't think of a more perfect subject! It's an experiment on human consciousness and connection, which analyzes the influence of our consciousness on our biological processes and of connection on consciousness, and I think our results could be _really_ valuable to the study.”

“Our _…_ results?” Abed slowed to a stop, pulling Annie around to face him by her dainty, well-moisturized hand.

It was seamless and smooth, and completely took her breath away. Man, he was getting good at knocking her off her feet.

“Wh- hmm?” Annie hummed, looking up at him with a small flush at his probing gaze.

“You said _our_ results. Are we doing this study together?”

“Oh! Well no, not exactly _our_ results,” Annie blushed harder at her mistake. “But I am the one conducting the experiment on you, so I'm pretty involved.”

“Lucky me. But isn't that a bit of a conflict of interest?”

“Well, a necessary one. I'm supposed to conduct the study on someone I have a personal relationship with, since we're measuring the effect that our connection has on your data. I also have to go through the same procedure with someone I have no relationship with, and someone you don't know has to repeat it with you. But don't worry, the questions are changed to equivalent questions, and the control group won't--”

“I'm sorry, what kind of relationship are we talking here?” Abed took a step forward, angling his head to look intently down on Annie's face as he entered her space, his arms crossed over his chest, _imposing._ “What are the qualifications, exactly, for this study?”

“Oh…” Annie froze. _Crap._ Why did he have to act like Damon Salvatore (personal space invasion, dirty eyes) when he was trying to get her to sweat? I mean, she could see _why._ It was effective. “Just… a close relationship I guess.”

“Mmm. Sounds scientific.”

She rolled her eyes, scoffing off his adorableness. “Okaaay, so the _exact_ requirements are: at least three years of regular interaction, a minimal level of physical intimacy, and no sexual history.”

Annie thought he might focus on that last part, but he didn't. Like always, he focused on something else.

“Minimal level of physical intimacy?” Abed repeated, his head cocking in that Abed way of his. The confused baby bird look; Annie melted at it. “Is that what you would call our level of intimacy?”

“I… I don't know. We hold hands pretty often, but we don't hug much. I hold your arm, you play with my hair. That's about the extent of it, right?”

He looked at her a moment longer, and Annie began to wonder if she messed up. She hadn't expected it to hurt his feelings but-- Abed ending that thinking, once and for all, by running a finger along her cheek.

Really, he ended all Annie's thinking with one, slow brush of his hand against her face.

“Yes,” Abed answered, tracing his hand to her chin, and taking it, raising it ever so slightly to meet her eyes. “Shame, isn't it?”

And then he was gone. He stepped to the side, and continued walking down the hallway. Turned the corner, and made it into class just before the bell rang. He didn't stick around long enough to see her _literally faint._

Annie wasn't sure exactly when Abed started courting her… or whatever he was doing. She wasn't sure when she even started noticing it. But one morning, she noticed a little flourish in the way he held the door open for her, and all the pieces clicked together. 

(Though the special drink and half-filled Sunday crossword puzzles she found waiting outside her door for her for four months after Troy left probably should have been her tip-off).

She never really minded it. Predictably, Annie kinda liked it. It wasn't like Jeff's completely random (and clinically bipolar) nuanced confessions, or Vaughn's mindless romanticisms. It was thoughtful, _direct._ Abed's flirtations and courtships were always personalized, crafted just for her. He would compliment the colored binder tabs she ordered online, or drop a line from a Meg Ryan movie while holding her arm or touching her waist, or bring her a lemon square from Shirley's to reinvigorate her during a Forensic Finals all-nighter -- and Annie would _swoon._

It was entertaining, and touching, and made Annie feel seen. But she took it with a grain of salt. She put a wall between his expressions and his desires. His behavior spoke of one thing, while she knew his intentions were entirely another. She knew he didn't really mean to make her fall for him -- he didn't know how she felt before he began -- and didn't mean to act on it. She didn't know exactly what he hoped to accomplish.

Annie thought perhaps he was testing her. If he was, she loved him enough to fall for it.

He tested people, she knew that. He tested her all the time. By giving her the option between partying with the cute City College boys in the building on a Friday night, or watching X-Men movies with him and Troy. When he said the line _“because you asked me to stay and you said we were friends”_ after she blew up at him for his reaction to the experiment. Their time in the Dreamatorium while Britta and Troy went on their first date was one of his biggest tests ever -- and also the first she passed.

That's why Annie didn't mind his Herculean Trials of Friendship; because when she passed, the feeling was better than any other. Better than an A+, colorfully- and carefully-appointed scrapbook, and kissing Jeff **combined.**

Plus... it's not like Annie never tested people.

Basically every conversation with her ended with some sort of test or task (which everyone knew was just a tiny test in disguise). Jeff was getting surprisingly good at them; Britta stumbled her way through every one with well-meaning ineptitude; Shirley passed 80% of all their general interactions; Troy had never passed one ever; she didn't expect anything of Pierce; and Abed passed only half of them until they moved in together. Then his success rate _quickly_ climbed to 100%.

Not that Annie really viewed friendship through such a transactional or reductive lens. She didn't always realize she was doing it, and either way, these little tests and assignments were to measure and enhance friendship, not define it. She hadn't even realized how important their friendship was to Abed, until he passed _her_ biggest test... inviting her to live with them.

She had wanted to. She had wanted to ask so bad she thought it was gonna kill her. But more than that, she wanted _him_ to see her, to see what she needed and wanted, and ask her.

And she didn't think he would. She thought it was absurd to expect anything.

But he did.

He looked at her and it came out of his mouth, so simply she almost disregarded it. She hadn't even been expecting anything then. She hadn't been hoping he would catch some subtle hint or signal when she gushed to the two of them that, "I really love your place!" But he offered it anyway. Without asking Troy, without knowing she wanted or needed it, (in the middle of a _Roxanne-_ driven dance-party that she would remember fondly for years to come), he offered.

That's when she thinks she first fell a little in love with Abed.

He could make things really complicated, and trippy, and a little hard to follow, but also exciting, fast-paced, and effervescent. And sometimes... really simple.

Annie liked it best when he made things simple. But she liked everything else too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes they LOVE each other  
> I've been slowly writing this for like two months what's up  
> One more part to go. I originally wrote this as a one-off, but now it's got three parts and a plot I guess so let's gooooo.  
> Comment and subscribe

**Author's Note:**

> Abed and Annie were perfect for each other, and I love Community with all my heart but the writers had a clear, Massive romantic blind spot. They needed someone on staff that understood the interconnectedness of character trajectory and romantic dynamics that are essential in any successful romantic subplot, and that person was me. Hope you enjoyed this small, concentrated taste of what Community would have looked at with me at the reigns ;)
> 
> (Inspired by a moment in the Mafia episode when you can see the board behind Abed's head that clearly lists "romance" under Annie's list of likes)


End file.
